Chapter 1

I was walking through the vacant lot on my way home from middle school when I found it. This particular lot was pretty scruffy, no matter how "organic" your attitude might be. Between the dry grass and the open plots of dirt, about all that you could say good about the place was that it did a real good job of raising clouds of dust. When there was no wind, as was the case today, just walking through could raise clouds higher than my 5'-8".

Anyway, I was scuffling my feet through the dirt trying to see just how much dust I could raise when I accidentally kicked what I at first thought was a funny looking washer. However, when I reached down to pick it up, it literally jumped from the ground to the ring finger of my right hand.

That was enough to scare the shit out of me! How did the ring jump from the ground and fit itself exactly around my finger? Not only that, but I was unable to pull the ring off, no matter how hard I tried. It didn't look like much: just a band of silver or white gold or maybe even stainless steel. But, whatever it was, it had shrunk to fit my finger so tight that I could not pull it off over my knuckle. The ring was tight, but it didn't hurt my finger, so I figured it could stay where it was until I got home. Mom or Dad would probably have a solution to getting it off.

I was still about four blocks from home when I found the ring, and I was in no hurry to get home. The subdivision we lived in was intended to be one of those high-end residential neighborhoods, but the economy had nosedived, and the developer had run out of money. Thus, there were five houses in the subdivision when the original intention had been to have 12 built there. I didn't worry about it, but Mom and Dad did because it was having a negative effect on the value of our house.

Dad and Mom still both worked. Mom didn't have to work: Dad's computer consulting firm made enough money to support us in a grand style. However, Mom was bored staying at home while my sister and I were at school and Dad was gallivanting (her word) around the country calling on customers. She didn't complain too much, since Dad brought in so much money. At the time, I didn't know what he did, except that it had something to do with keeping hackers out of a company's computers. That seemed to be a recession-proof occupation!

I was dawdling along toward home when I spotted another boy about my age headed in approximately the same direction. A new family had moved in nearly three weeks ago, and I had not met them yet. This kid must be a part of that family. I walked up to him and said, "Hi, my name is Billy Watkins. I live in that house over there. What's your name?"

"Fuck off, dork! Stay away from me. I'm a loner, and I like it that way."

"Okay, I'll stay away from you, but I would like to know your name."

"I said to leave me alone!" That was when the new kid balled his hand into a fist and took a swing at my face.

What in the shit was wrong with this kid? I tried to duck out of the way of his swing, but I didn't quite make it. His fist caught me on the face just below my left eye socket. It didn't hurt all that much, but it was enough to make me stagger back. I stumbled backwards and thought to myself, I wish I had someway to make this guy stop swinging at me.

All of a sudden, the kid fell unconscious at my feet. I had not touched him, so I was completely mystified as to what had happened. I checked and found that the kid was still breathing, so I decided to get the Hell out of Dodge. I ran all of the way home and ran inside. Mrs. Archer, the housekeeper was still there, so she was the first person I saw.

"Billy, have you been in a fight? The whole side of your face is red just like somebody had hit you there. I wouldn't be surprised to see a black eye form. Let's get an ice bag on it before that happens."

Mrs. Archer was a real peach of a person, and she looked out for me and Sally, my sister. She had an ice bag on my face almost before I was breathing normally from my little run home. Mrs. Archer had me sit at the kitchen table and hold the ice pack against my face with one hand while I used the other hand to eat some homemade cookies and drink a Coke.

"Okay, Mr. Billy Watkins, now give me the straight poop on how you got hit."

Never in my life had I ever lied to Mrs. Archer, and this did not seem like a good time to start. "I saw the new kid, a boy, in the neighborhood, and I walked up to him to introduce myself. I gave him my name and asked for his. I swear that was all I said. He said that I should leave him alone. I agreed to, but I wanted to know his name. That's when he swung a fist at me and connected when I tried to duck out of the way. Then, he fell unconscious at my feet. I swear that I didn't touch him. I checked to make sure that he was still breathing before I ran home. Mrs. Archer, I don't understand any of this!"

"Okay, Billy, I believe you. Don't get yourself all worked up over this, but it sure does sound strange. Your Dad is back in town, so be sure to tell him what happened when he comes in after work."

I wasn't so sure that was such a great idea, but I trusted Mrs. Archer, so I agreed to do what she suggested. We talked for a few more minutes, and then I showed her the yellow gold ring that I was wearing. I asked her opinion about getting it off. She wanted to know the story of why I was wearing it and how I managed to get it on if it was so hard to get off.

I had no answer to that, but I did tell her how it seemed to shrink to fit my finger after it settled into place. She tut-tutted over that and suggested that we try lubricating my finger with soap. She said that was how she had removed her rings when her fingers swelled. Well, we tried the soap, but no amount of tugging would get the ring to move. It didn't even want to slip around my finger when I tried to rotate it. We must have worked for about 20 minutes trying to get the ring off, but we finally gave up in disgust at a bad job.

Mrs. Archer laughed and said that I might be stuck with that ring for the rest of my life, unless I wanted to chop my finger off. I was not amused! At least, she did say that it was a nice looking man's ring, and girls would find it attractive. Now that got my attention. I was starting to see girls as more than annoying parts of the scenery, so I decided to leave well enough alone if she really thought girls would like the ring. I did decide to get additional opinions by asking the rest of my family, especially my sister.

At supper, I showed them the ring and asked for opinions. I had not noticed it before, but the ring now sported a brilliant ruby and four tiny diamonds as the setting. This was getting pretty weird, because when I first got the ring, I remembered it as being a plain white band with no gem setting. Oh, well, I was not going to complain—even I liked the ring now. My parents and my sister all agreed that it was a very nice looking ring without being ostentatious (my mother's word).

That evening, as per Mrs. Archer's suggestion, I told Dad about the kid assaulting me this afternoon. Dad was appropriately sympathetic, but he had no idea why the kid had attacked me. He did say that all he knew about the family was that their name was Anderson, and the only children they had was the one boy. Dad laughed when I said, "Well, I can understand why they have only one kid if their son acts like that all of the time."

The conversation turned to other things, and I asked about getting some transportation of my own. My bicycle had been stolen at school; I had locked it to the rack, but it was gone when I went out to ride it home that afternoon. Since then, I had been riding the school bus to and from school, but I did not relish the idea of walking that seven blocks from the bus stop in winter weather.

Dad pointed out that I was too young for a car, but he would see what he could arrange. He also promised to ask Mom to inquire where she worked if, among all of those lawyers, there might be somebody who could come up with a solution to my problem. In the meantime, I would just have to keep taking the bus and walking for the duration.

Well, this had been an interesting day, but it got a lot more interesting after I went to sleep. I had a dream like none I had ever had before. Specifically, the dream dealt with my new ring. I don't know to this day how it works, but the ring seemed to give me an intensive course in how to use its powers.

The ring was magical in nature, but I would have figured that out by myself after I had some time to consider how it had gotten onto my finger, how it had adjusted its size, and how it had "grown" the gemstone setting.

However, the really interesting thing about the ring was that it had powers that could be used to defend its wearer. I could get these powers to work for me by a simple mental request, such as the one I had used this afternoon to protect me from that fool boy.

The first thing that I asked for was some sort of shield to cover my body to keep me from suffering the blow to my face that I had received this afternoon. My idea was to protect my whole body from attack without me having to think consciously and continually about the body armor. That was all I could think of that I wanted at the moment, but it was clear that I could have any other protection that I wanted as soon as I thought of it.

To this day, I have no idea what generates the power that the ring needs to do its thing. Maybe it comes from my body, transferred by the contact with my skin. Maybe it comes from another dimension. Maybe it comes from exposure to the sun. I don't know, but I will be happy as long as it keeps working.

One other thing that I do know: that was the best night's sleep that I could remember ever having. I woke up feeling fully refreshed and not dragging my ass like I usually did when I woke up at 6:00 AM on school days. Sally has to get up at the same time as I do, though she goes to the high school. In fact, we ride the same bus as far as the middle school where I get off. Sally stays on the bus and continues to the high school.

This morning, I was up and finished in the bathroom before Sally showed up for her morning ritual. Normally, she had gotten to the bathroom first, and I had to share the master bathroom with Dad because she kept the bathroom occupied so long that there was barely time for breakfast. Today was the exception, and everybody was amazed—me, the most of all.

I was the first one downstairs for breakfast, and I was fully dressed and ready for school, except for that last brushing of my teeth before leaving for the bus. That, too, was normally done by me in the master bathroom, and I figured to stay with that routine.

I had bacon, eggs (2), and grits with my orange juice and coffee. The B, E, & G replaced the cold cereal that I usually ate. Oh, I see that I forgot to mention that we lived in Dothan, AL, so that was the reason for the grits.

As I walked out the door, I noticed that the weather had already started to cool off. A cold front had come through and dropped the temperature to 63°F. Well, that was not too cold for the walk to the bus. Of course, Sally complained that her legs were cold, but the dumb girl was still wearing a miniskirt like she wore in the hot weather of summer (85°F and up to 105°F). When I asked her about it, she said, "Ace (her boyfriend) likes to see my legs, so I want to wear the mini as long as possible."

Even at my age, I knew that I could not argue with hormones, so I kept my mouth shut, though I did think a lot of things. We got to the bus stop in plenty of time to stand around, so I was very surprised when Sally pointed out my new ring to her girlfriends who were also waiting for the bus. I guess that proved what Mrs. Archer had said, and my ring was going to help me attract girls. I got several nice compliments on the ring, and I was pleased on two counts: people liked the ring, and those people were female. I sent a mental thank you to my ring, and I swear that it got a little warmer on my finger.

Chapter 2 »